


It's Only a Game

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Barebacking, Bloodplay, Bondage, Bottom Sam, Boyfriend to Death Inspired, Cutting, Dirty Talk, Doctor Kink, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fear Play, Knifeplay, M/M, Medical Kink, Medical Torture, Meg 2.0 - Freeform, Multi, Needles, Oral Sex, Painplay, Rape Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, Sibling Incest, Smut, Spitroasting, Threesome - F/M/M, Top Dean, Vaginal Sex, fear kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 13:16:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10594788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Meg loves horrorporn games. But what happens when her boyfriends decide to help her live out her roleplay fantasies... In real life?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SPN Polyship Bingo 2017  
> Square filled: Meg  
> Inspired by: Boyfriend To Death horrorporn datingsim. (Sano's paths).

Sam, Dean, and Meg had a perfectly average, perfectly normal, perfectly boring polyamorous relationship. Well, except the fact that Sam and Dean were brothers. And the fact that Meg that was a demon. But that was about as normal as their lives had ever gotten, so they considered it a win. 

 

There was also the small fact that their sweet, beautiful Meg had a soft spot for the bloodiest, goriest, most gruesome horror and torture porn she could get her hands on. 

 

She wasn’t crazy – none of the videos she watched ever had people getting more hurt or scared than they had consented to, Sam made sure of that. She might be a demon but they were civilized people. Her latest fascination was a simple video game involving some of the most gruesome horror and pornography either brother had ever seen on screen. 

But they couldn’t complain – after a few rounds with one of the men in her video game Meg would screw them both stupid. She’d always been amazing in bed – and everywhere of course – but this game seemed to bring out a whole new side of her. 

 

That’s how they ended up in the basement of the bunker on their three-year anniversary. Meg was strapped down to a cold metal table in the center of their Devils trap, gazing up at Sam in awe. 

He’d done his homework. He’d played through various levels of her game – and openly admitted to Dean that he’d gotten hard as a rock a few. Currently he was gazing down at his bound girlfriend, a half smirk on his face. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to speak. 

“What’s going on here, Sam?” She asked hesitantly. 

Sam pulled up a chair, scraping it on the concrete before sitting. 

“You wanna know what’s going on? I’ll be honest. I’m going to run a few tests… And you probably won’t survive.”

Meg squeezed her thighs together, her eyes widening as it fell into place. A quiet moan escaped her lips. 

Sam smirked and slid the chair closer, letting his eyes roam over her body before speaking again,

“So tell me your medical history.”

“I—“

“Any disorders?”

Meg struggled against the leather straps holding her down again, then looked up at him. 

“Not that I know of,” She whispered.

“Nothing at all?”

Meg shook her head slowly, not taking her eyes off Sam. She could hear someone else moving around in shadows of the room – it had to be Dean – but it was just serving to heighten the nerves of the situation. 

They were only humans, but her boyfriends were hunters. They tortured creatures like her for a living. And she was strapped down in the center of a Devil’s trap with warded leather. Her heart rate increased when a thought occurred to her. The men she cared for so deeply could turn on her in a second. It would only take a breath for one of them to plunge the demon blade into her heart or across her throat – and she couldn’t fight back. 

Another low moan slipped from between her lips, drawing Sam’s attention from whatever he was jotting down on the clipboard he’d retrieved from the table near her feet. 

“Something the matter?”

Meg swallowed hard, her heart racing. “No, please— Let me go.”

“I can’t do that. I’m not finished,” Sam said simply. He rose and grabbed a syringe, tapping it a few times to get the bubles out.

“What is that?”

“Something to help you sleep.”

“I’m a demon. I don’t sleep,” Meg panted, eyeing the milky fluid. Sam smiled without emotion. “You will with this. I made it special.” He pushed her head to the side and jammed it into her neck, depressing the plunger before she could argue. When he removed it, he smiled that empty smile again and clicked the lamp off, plunging the room into darkness.

Meg whipped her head around, squinting in the dark to find Sam. She though she saw the white of his lab coat, but just as quickly it was gone, replaced by more darkness.

“Sam!” She cried, only to be met by more silence.

“Dean! Please!”

Meg began to fight against her restraints, cursing the warding as her wrists began to ache – she was nothing more powerful than a human right now. They wouldn’t hurt her—Couldn’t—They loved her—

“You may as well stop fighting. You’re just gonna piss him off.” Dean’s voice startled Meg. Her head snapped to the left.

It was dark still, but her eyes had begun to adjust. She could make out the outline of Dean’s body just a few feet away from her.

“Please—Let me go, Dean. Help me.”

“Not my place, sweetheart. This is your own fault.”

Meg fought against the straps again, her bare heels clanging on the metal table with what little room she had to move.

“How?” She snarled, her panic presenting itself in the form of anger.

“You were the one that got Sam interested in that stupid game. He talked about it all the time. How _fun_ it would be. How nice it would be to watch someone fall apart like the player—You never should have shown it to him, Meg.”

“Please, Dean, it’s just a game,” Meg whispered, her throat closing around her words.

“Not anymore. You loved it so much—Now you get to live it. And I can’t help you, sweetheart. Let’s just hope—Well—“

“What?” She snapped.

“Let’s just hope his favorite ending is one of the good ones.” He turned and walked out without another word. Meg sobbed weakly, fighting against the restraints.

The room was fading in and out – whatever Sam had given her was starting to take effect.

“S—Sam,” she tried to cry, but it came out slurred and quiet. “D—Dean—“

The room disappeared as she lost consciousness.

 

Meg opened her eyes when the lamp turned back on. She felt groggy; she hadn’t slept in—Centuries.

“What was in that stuff?”

Sam was standing over her, scrawling on that clipboard again. “A mix of herbs and chemicals that I figured out would put a demon to sleep. Pretty fascinating huh?”

“You know it’s just a game, right Sam?”

“What is?”

“This—It shouldn’t be real. You—You could kill me.” Sam looked up, that cold smile spreading on his face.

“Isn’t that the point?”

He reached over and grabbed the demon blade, allowing it to catch the light for a moment.

“You know, I never figured out what these runes meant. All the knowledge in the bunker, and I haven’t found the right book. Do you know?”

“No.” Meg’s heart was pounding. She was unable to draw her gaze away from the shining silver of the blade.

"Too bad. I'd love to research it a little further." Sam shrugged and brought the knife down, his hand steady as he dragged it across her exposed inner forearm. 

Meg hissed as pain bloomed, lighting up her nerves as deep red blood oozed from the cut. She whimpered when he did it again, squeezing her bare thighs together. She shouldn't find this so-- arousing. 

"Please--" she whimpered.

"Is it too much?" Sam asked, holding her arm steady. The throbbing in time with her rapid heartbeats was distracting. 

"N-- Sam, please."

"We're just about finished, Meg." He set the knife aside and grabbed her arm, placing his thumb and forefinger on either side of the deepest cut. Without warning, he spread them, opening her flesh and tearing a scream from her lips. 

"Jesus Christ, what's with all the noise?" Dean's voice made them both glance up. 

"Working on my experiment," Sam explained. 

Dean walked up to him, looking down at Meg's bloody arm. 

"Gross, dude." He reached out, pressing his finger into the small hole made by the knife. Meg screamed again, twisting her hips. She looked up at the brothers pleadingly, her eyes wet. 

"What's this?" Dean asked, grabbing her thighs and forcing them open. The blood on his finger left a bright streak on her pale flesh. 

"She's wet as hell, Sammy."

"She is?" Sam asked, freeing her arm. 

Meg moaned helplessly when Sam brushed his own blood tinged fingers over her wet folds. 

"Do you like this, Meg?"

She opened her mouth to respond, cut short when Sam slipped two fingers inside her easily. 

"Jesus-- How twisted do you have to be to get turned on by this?" Dean asked, adding a finger of his own as she writhed.

"She is a demon," Sam said, driving his fingers deep. He smirked then, picking up the blade again and twirling it between his long fingers. 

"Move your hand a second, Dean and grab me the holy water."

Meg's eyes widened a little. She watched Sam dribble holy water on the blade's blood tinged edge, another gush of wetness dribbling onto the table. 

"Sam--"

"Oh shut up," Dean groaned. "I'm tired of hearing your complaining. _You_ brought this on." 

Sam held the blade in front of her eyes, a few drops falling onto her cheeks and burning, causing her to hiss and flinch away. 

Dean's hand was back between her legs, lightly stroking her opening and clit as Sam let the blade rest against her breastbone. The water burned more than the pressure splitting her layers of skin did and she cried out, tears slipping out of the corners of her eyes.

Unable to stop the overwhelming feelings, as both brothers touched and cut her, Meg's thighs clamped down on Dean's hand and she came, soaking his fingers. 

He laughed. "You made her come, Sammy."

He snorted, pulling the blade away and cleaning it off. 

"I wonder if it's the fear of being hurt, or the pain of it that gets her so horny," he asked no one in particular as he prepped another syringe of sedative.

"I say we keep playing. Find out." 

Sam smirked. "I agree." He jammed the needle into her neck again, depressing the plunger before kissing her forehead. 

"One more day."

She struggled to stay awake as Dean grabbed Sam and kissed him, the empty syringe clattering to the floor. He yanked Sam's pants down and hiked up the lab coat, shoving him until he bent over the table Meg was strapped to. 

Her vision faded in and out as she struggled to focus. Sam's eyes never left hers as Dean fucked into him with little prep, his cock slapping off the metal table. The last thing she saw was Sam's head thrown back, screaming Dean's name as he orgasmed, spurts of his hot come splashing onto the open wounds on her arms.

 

The lamp was still on when Meg came to. It took her a moment, but her eyes finally focused, landing on Sam’s still form. He was sitting at a small table, just inside the perimeter of the trap. She scowled a little – surely he wouldn’t be foolish enough to _sleep_ in such a place. The memories of before came flooding back: how hard Dean had been fucking him – maybe it was believable. She sighed a little and began to fight against the binding again, looking around the chamber as she did.

To her surprise, she felt the strap on her right wrist give a little. Looking down, she struggled harder, gasping quietly when she was able to free her wrist. She moved as quick and quiet as she could, undoing her left and then her ankles before sliding off the table. Her barefeet hit the cold cement of the chamber and she looked around, unsure what she could do. She could scrape the paint away from the trap – Sam had left the knives on the tray near the table.

Or… She looked over at Sam, his head resting on the small table. His back was rising and falling with his deep, steady breaths.

Taking a nervous gulp of air herself, Meg approached him, slow and steady. She crouched down, watching him sleep for a moment. Her stomach knotted up pleasantly as she took in his sleeping features. Both Winchester brothers were beautiful men but there had always been something about Sam—

Without thinking too much about it, she reached out and ran her fingers over his lap, surprised to feel the hardness of his erection against his thigh.

Another intake of breath, and she began to stroke him through his slacks, smiling a bit when he groaned in his sleep. She reached up, carefully unhooking and unzipping his pants, freeing his cock.

Slow and steady, she stroked from base to tip, using her thumb to smear the precum around his flushed, silky head.

Sam’s hand slammed down on her wrist in a vice grip, surprising a cry out of her. Their eyes met, his narrowed dangerously.

“What are you doing?”

“M—Making you feel good. It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Sam cocked his head a little, sitting up and leaning back in the chair to face her completely.

“What gave you that idea?”

“I—The game—“

“The game just gave me ideas. I never said I wanted to replicate it. I like watching you squirm. Learning what makes you wet.”

 _“You_ make me wet, Sam. And Dean. Let me make you feel good.”

Sam yanked her up and onto his lap, squeezing her ass as he lowered her down, his cock nudging at her folds for a moment before sliding in easily, stretching her wide.

Meg gasped softly, setting her hands on the back of his neck.

“Then show me.”

She began to ride him, slow and steady. She couldn’t ignore his fingers, biting into her ass as he gripped her, or his face, twisting into pleasured grimaces when she clenched just right.

His head fell backwards, a breathy laugh slipping from his lips. “Dean’s gonna be pissed.”

“Why?” She asked, moving a little faster.

“He wanted to fuck you first.”

She smiled a little, leaning close to Sam and nibbling his earlobe. “He doesn’t have to know,” She whispered.

“He already does.”

Meg shouted in surprise when Dean grabbed her hair, dragging her backwards off Sam’s cock and onto the cold floor. She looked up at him, her eyes widening when she saw the blade in his hand.

“Dean—I—“

“Shut up, Sam. You let her seduce you?”

“No, she got loose,” Sam tried. Dean ignored him, pressing the blade against Meg’s throat.

“What were you going to do, demon? Huh? Fuck him then run? Stop our little game early?” Meg felt her eyes well with tears.

“No, I swear, I—“

“I don’t believe you.”

“Please!” she sobbed, grabbing the rough denim on his thighs as she rose to her knees, “I’ll do anything.”

The slow smirk that spread on Dean’s face would have chilled a human to the core. “Anything?”

Meg nodded, leaning forward and nuzzling his crotch.

Dean rolled his eyes up to look at Sam. “Come here, baby brother. You started in – you might as well finish, right?”

“A—Are you sure?” Sam whispered, the chair groaning as he rose slowly.

“Yeah. I wanna play somewhere else.” Dean let the tip of the blade graze Meg’s bottom lip, drawing a thin line of blood.

Meg gasped when she felt the tip of Sam’s thick cock prodding her entrance once more. She spread her legs farther, pushing her ass back to let him slide in. At the same time, Dean used the knife’s tip to push open her mouth, undoing his jeans.

“You gonna bite?”

She shook her head as well as she could with the blade cutting into her lip.

“Good girl.” He look the knife away from her mouth and passed it to Sam. He let it rest against her throat and Dean slipped his cock tip between her lips, a smirk spreading on across his face.

She leaned her head forward as much as she dared, swirling her tongue around the tip as Sam began to pump into her from behind, groaning quietly into her sweat dampened hair.

Dean stroked Sam’s bangs back. “Is she wet?”

Sam nodded, reaching his free hand up to knead her breast. Dean began to push his hips forward, making her take a bit more each time.

Meg’s eyes rolled up in her head, meeting Dean’s lust darkened gaze.

“Knew you’d love this—You’re always like this.”

Meg huffed a little around the cock in her mouth, letting her teeth lightly graze the sensitive flesh and earning a swat upside the head for it.

“Behave, all I have to do is give the command and he’ll slit your damn throat.”

Sam pressed the knife a little harder against her neck for emphasis, slamming his hips upward with more force.

Meg gave a sobbing moan, digging her nails into Dean’s hips as he gagged her with his cock. She clenched around Sam, earning a low groan as he continued to drive into her. He let his hand slip from her breast to her clit, rubbing quickly.

Dean pulled back, stroking himself quickly. “Open your mouth.”

Meg obeyed, whimpering softly. She winced as Dean came, covering her face in hot, stick ropes. He dropped to his knees, taking Sam’s hand away and beginning his own rapid rubbing and squeezing, drawing her closer and closer to orgasm.

Meg tossed her head back, screaming openly as she came, squirting around Sam’s thrusting cock onto the cold cement floor between her knees.

Sam came seconds later, the knife clattering to the ground as he wrapped his arms around her chest, releasing deep inside her still clenching body.

 

The three knelt, slumped against one another. Dean shifted over, kissing up Meg’s neck tiredly.

She laughed, leaning her head back on Sam’s shoulder. “I didn’t expect you two to go through with it.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Sam asked, carefully pulling his softening cock out of her and settling onto his ass. He pulled Meg against him, his teeth grazing her shoulder.

“It was a lot to ask.”

“It was what you wanted.”

“Did you guys enjoy it?”

Dean and Sam both smirked against her skin.

“More than I thought I would,” Dean admitted.

“It was actually great – seeing how turned on you were, I—You were beautiful, Meg,” Sam whispered.

Meg chuckled, reaching back and punching him lightly in the arm. “Come on, help me up, you assholes.”

Dean rose and helped Meg and Sam up before kissing each of them.

“Shower then bed?” He offered.

Meg grinned and nodded, leaning close to Dean.

“We’ll clean this all up tomorrow,” Sam said, stepping out of the trap and pressing the button near the door to slide over the panel that broke it.

Meg and Dean stepped out and met Sam at the doorway.

“By the way,” Dean said, “Happy anniversary.”


End file.
